


We Eat in Here!

by supernatural9917



Series: Destiel Smut Bingo 2018 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Has a Cowboy Kink, Destiel Smut Bingo 2018, M/M, Sam Winchester Needs Brain Bleach, Sam Winchester is Scarred For Life, Sex all over the bunker, Whipped Cream, dean and cas are loud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 02:03:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16296173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernatural9917/pseuds/supernatural9917
Summary: Sam is really sick of walking in on Dean and Cas boning.Written for the Destiel Smut Bingo. Square fill: Sam is scarred for life.





	We Eat in Here!

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Sam.

'Argh! My eyes!' Sam shouted as he covered said eyes and stumbled away from the kitchen doorway. 'Jesus, guys, we _eat_ in here!' He heard the sounds of apologies being mumbled, but he didn't stick around to see whether they would actually stop what they'd been doing.

It wasn't that Sam was unhappy about Dean and Cas _finally_ getting their heads out of their asses and getting together. Quite the opposite: he was extremely pleased for them, and pleased for himself that he'd never have to be in the middle of one of those UST stare-offs ever again. Unfortunately, it was starting to become obvious that what replaced those UST stare-offs was so much worse.

Now that they were free to resolve their sexual tension, Dean and Cas felt the need to do so frequently, loudly, and with little consideration for their surroundings. He'd caught them making out in the library and half-naked in the laundry room; he'd walked in on Dean leaning against one of the pillars in the war room, head thrown back, pants around his ankles and Cas on his knees in front of him; he'd been on the other side of far-too-thin motel walls during cases, unfortunately discovering things about his brother's kinks that he'd never, ever, ever wanted to know- though at least he now had an explanation for the pink panties he'd found mixed up in his laundry occasionally.

Most traumatic had been the time he'd gone to the garage on car washing day to offer them sandwiches, only to trip over Dean's sodden denim short-shorts, carelessly discarded to allow for unspeakable acts to take place on Baby's still-damp hood. Sam had sprained his ankle and dropped the sandwiches, but the worst part had definitely been the sight of Dean's freckled ass bouncing on Cas's dick.

Well, that _had_ been the most traumatic, because today just took the cake. As much as Baby was a shared resource, really everyone knew that she was Dean's more than anything, so if he wanted to defile her in that way, that was up to him. But the kitchen? They all had to use that; they had to _cook_ and _eat_ in there, for fuck's sake! And this time it hadn't just been a bit of smooching or canoodling while they made dinner, which was a common enough sight. Oh no.

Cas had been sprawled on his back on the table, his nipples covered in whipped cream which Dean had been in the process of licking off. His angle for doing so had been slightly awkward, however, because he once again had Cas balls-deep inside him. More disturbing, however, had been the cowboy boots and assless chaps they both wore; apparently this had been some kind of cowboy roleplay that then morphed into food play, but Sam really didn't want to know how that had happened. Instead he locked himself in his room and googled methods to suppress traumatic memories.

Half an hour later, he could no longer ignore the hunger that had led him to the kitchen in the first place, and he carefully made his way down the hall again. He could hear voices in the kitchen, so before turning the corner he called out asking if it was safe to come in. Cas assured him that it was, so he peeked around the door frame before walking in and heading straight to the fridge for sandwich ingredients.

'Hey, Sam,' Dean said sheepishly, 'just wanted to say sorry about earlier. We, uh, kinda got carried away.'

'Yeah, kinda,' Sam snorted.

'It's just, you know, ten years is a long time for all that stuff to build up, and I guess we're just goin' a little crazy,' Dean continued. 'But we'll try to be more discreet from now on. Right, Cas?'

'Of course. My apologies, Sam, it won't happen again.'

'Look, guys, I'm really happy for you, but can we just set some rules about where and when it's not OK to, you know-'

'Bone?' Dean interrupted with a grin.

Sam ran a frustrated hand through his hair. 'Sure, whatever. Rule number one, no bare asses where we eat, please.' He saw Dean open his mouth and quickly added, 'Or bare other things either.' Dean closed his mouth again. 'And can you please sanitise that table?'

'Already done,' Dean assured him. 'Gave it a good scrub afterwards. And we promise we won't do that kind of stuff in here again.'

'Or the war room, or the library, or a random storage room, or the laundry room,' Sam added. 'In fact, why don't you just keep it in your bedroom?'

'Well that's boring,' Dean pouted.

'We can do that,' Cas replied. 'I'm sure we can find ways to keep it interesting, Dean.' There was an edge to his voice that made Dean look over at him, and Sam really didn't want to know why the flash of grace in Cas's eyes made Dean blush so deeply.

'Great, that's all I ask,' Sam agreed, finishing his sandwich. 'I'll just be watching some TV in my room, see you guys later.'

'Yeah, see ya later, Sammy,' Dean called after him. 'We're just gonna look for a case to get us all out on the road again. And no more sexy stuff in the kitchen, honest!'

Sam sighed with relief. Hopefully that was the last time he'd be scarred for life by his brother's sex life.

**********

He'd been so very wrong. It turned out that limiting their activities to the bedroom only meant that Sam didn't _see_ things, but he could definitely still _hear_ things. And hear things he did. Every. Damn. Night.

'OH DADDY YES! Please punish me, Daddy!' came Dean's muffled cry, and that was it. Sam's limit had been reached. He jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes, packed a duffle bag, and scribbled a hasty note to explain his departure before stomping to the garage. Picking a car he really hoped Dean and Cas hadn't fucked in, he drove off into the night. The first thing he was going to do was spend a night in a nice, quiet hotel with nice, thick walls, and in the morning he was going to purchase the most effective noise-cancelling headphones money could buy.


End file.
